Arlis

Bíld son of Bóurr to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor, greeting and warmest affection.

Bíld son of Bóurr to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor, fond greeting and, I fear, barely anything else, as I write in such a hurry on what is practically the eve of our departure from Bree-land!

His youngest child to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor, fond and loving greeting, even if this time spectacularly tardy.

If I write that this month not much has to me happened here, it would be true enough. The state of my affairs is the same — I am hale and well, studying and practicing and drinking and making new acquaintances every day as I wait for the time of our caravan’s departure.

It is true also that my life shall from this point be never the same.

His youngest child to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor greeting.

I rest in the gentle quiet of wintry Bree-land, just a young Dwarf who does no more than drink and play at the tavern, far away from any battlefield or court of consequence. And yet, even here, even I come to constant tests of my wits, principles, and courage — and even if the stakes are never so great as they are for the warrior or king, I worry very often if my actions are correct.

His youngest child to Bóurr son of Bíld of Erebor greeting.

This letter I pen many weeks later than I ought to have, to my shame; I apologize profusely, but I will be consoled that my winter letters are like to pile up on the western side of the Misty Mountains regardless.

His youngest son child to Bóurr Bíldul of Erebor greeting.

I write again from Thorin’s Hall, though I hoped that by now it would be from Bree-land. Yet our plans keep churning about, such that it seems I may never plant my feet solidly upon them. If I am yet in mountain when the decoration for the Solstice has begun I am like to actually weep, though thankfully I do not believe that will come to pass.

Bíld son of Bóurr to Maddoct son of Haddoct, warm and affectionate greeting.